Chapter 6: Leon

Leon wakes up at the crack of dawn the next morning, mindful of Genevieve's sleeping form next to him. She had hogged most of the blanket and mattress, leaving his legs bloody frozen and his back dangling precariously close to the edge of the bed. He doesn't try to move her. He doesn't want the morning to start with the two of them bickering.

It's unusual for Leon to be the first to wake. He's always the one being pulled grudgingly out of bed. On school days, his alarm would go off at the same time as Damien's, only to be ignored until Damien comes stomping in, yanking the blanket clean off his body.

Despite waking up early, he thinks he's never slept so well.

The last time he'd found Genevieve asleep next to him, they were in Paris. The four of them had scattered Henrik's ashes in six places: Amsterdam, where Henrik grew up; Sydney, the place he and Gina had fallen in love; London; Galway in Ireland; and Teller in Alaska. The last of his ashes were buried in their backyard in Paris, on top of which they'd planted grape vines. A part of him would stay there after all of them left. The cruelest form of irony.

Henrik had left a will back at the Paris safe house. He'd kept it hidden from everyone, even Gina. Gina had found it under her diary on her desk hours after they'd finished planting his vines. A quick glimpse into Henrik's memories told them he'd written it and left it there after she'd fallen asleep the night he and Kala and Lito played Mario Kart to blow off steam before the battle.

I want to say I'm certain we're all going to make it out alive, but this is the one thing I can't promise, Henrik had written, the words scribbled out and traced over each other until he was positive he'd spelled everything right. If the four of you are reading this, if this is the last time you hear from me, bury me in the places that are part of each of you.

"A letter!" Gina had exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "A fucking letter! He wrote us a fucking letter! I can't believe he'd thought—"

She choked up and started sobbing again. Miki gave her a tight hug, leaning her head against Gina's chest. Gina didn't finish her sentence, but being a Sensate meant she didn't have to. Leon knew what she was going to say: Henrik had thought he wasn't going to make it, and he didn't.

"Henrik wrote a letter?"

They turned and saw Damien standing at the door to Gina and Henrik's room, staring at the piece of paper still clutched in Gina's hand. He had been up in his room. No one had heard him come downstairs.

"Can… Can I see it?" Damien asked, looking down at his fidgeting hands.

Genevieve had sat down on their bed and buried her face in her hands while Miki read the letter out loud. Now she looked up, frowning at the situation in front of her: Leon standing frozen by the nightstand, Miki and Gina holding each other by the desk. She stood and walked over, putting a hand on Damien's shoulder. "Later, okay?" she'd asked with a strained smile.

Damien nodded slowly. He let Genevieve guide him out into the kitchen without asking anything else. Leon wondered how in the world Genevieve was able to get herself back up when all he wanted to do was curl into a ball by the foot of the bed and stay down.

The next morning, Leon had woken up to find Genevieve curled up in his bed, her face carefully washed so he couldn't see any traces of tears. Leon realized, then, that Genevieve wasn't the strong one by choice. She was strong because if she wasn't, no one would take her place.

"I'm sorry," Leon whispers. "It shouldn't have always been you."

Genevieve shuffles in their shared bed but doesn't wake. She inches down, burrowing herself deeper into their blanket. A few tears escape the corner of her eyes, and Leon can't tell if they're his or her own.

We all ran, Miki thinks from her rental cabin in Siberia, slipping into Leon's thoughts. We all ran, and I was the first.

Miki had been the first one to leave Paris. She'd stayed the night after they'd buried Henrik's ashes and planted his vines, and by dawn, she was gone.

"You had your reasons," Leon says, appearing by her side in front of her fireplace. Miki scoots over to make room on the couch. "I had mine."

Miki nods, the guilt still apparent on her face. "And Genevieve has—I mean, had—her reasons to stay."

"Had?" he asks.

"I don't think she needs to anymore."

"But what about Gina?"

Miki shrugs. "Genevieve's out of excuses. She'll still try to stay, of course. But it won't work. Gina's not gonna let her."

"She'll go back to Galway, then?" Leon asks with a frown.

"Well, she will if you don't ask."

"Ask? Ask what?"

Miki looks like she wants to chuck a log at him. She tosses the log into the fire instead, seeing as Leon's not really there.

"Ask her to stay? With us? I…" Leon turns back to watch the flames. "I don't know if she wants to stay. Stay with us."

"Leon." Miki turns him back to face her, laying both hands on his shoulder so he has to look at her. "Leon, Leon, Leon. We can literally see inside her head. I think we both know what she's gonna say. All you gotta do is ask."

"Well, asking's the bloody hard part, isn't it?"

"You don't have to use words." Miki rolls her eyes. "You're clearly at a loss for them."

"Thanks."

"You know what you have to do." Miki puckers her lips and kisses the air.

Before Leon can think of a clever retort, he finds himself back in London, watching Genevieve stir in bed.

He reaches for her mind slowly as he watches her chest rise and fall, her wild hair tumbling down her shoulders at all angles. All he feels is the slow static he'd come to associate with a mind in a deep, dreamless sleep. Stay, Leon thinks now as he watches her. Please stay.

It feels wrong to even ask. She had been the one to ask two years ago, and he'd looked into her eyes and still—stupidly, foolishly—decided to leave.

It was three days after Miki had gone without saying goodbye. If it were any other situation, Leon would have been angry at Miki for it, but given the circumstances, he couldn't have said he'd have done it differently in her place. Gina had quietly announced at noon that she was going to volunteer in the new children's shelter in Amsterdam. She said she was doing it for the Sensorium orphans left from the war. She had avoided Damien's eyes as she spoke.

They had spent the rest of the day in silence, packing everything in their rooms without a destination in mind. Even Damien followed their lead without protest. They decided, without speaking, that they couldn't stay in this house, not when Henrik's absence still stung like a freshly cut wound. It was best to leave the house with all the good memories and remove everyone from it before the full wave of the devastation hits and washes it all out.

That night Damien had fallen asleep in the middle of packing, right on top of an open suitcase that belonged to Henrik. Leon had picked him up and put him in bed, tucking the blanket tightly around him. He didn't want this house to be the last place he and Damien were together.

He already knew he had to say goodbye to everyone else.

Genevieve had followed Leon down the hall back to his room. She knocked on his doorframe while he planted himself in his chair, staring at the wall. Leon wished she would just say goodnight and leave the rest for morning. He hadn't had time to think of the right things to say.

He looked up and nodded, letting her in.

"You could stay," she said quietly, looking out the window.

He'd known she didn't expect him to say yes. He and Genevieve knew everything about each other then, save for the one thing Leon hid from her. And he wanted to stay with her. God, he wanted it so much. But he couldn't, and she knew, and he hated that he had to prove her right.

"I… This… This is no place for Damien," he mumbled.

She nodded slowly, knowingly. "No, you're right. It isn't."

"It isn't," Leon repeated, hoping saying it twice would let him convince himself. "I think it's better for Damien if we go somewhere else. Or move back to London."

"Yeah." She tried to smile. It lasted for a second. "Yeah, London's good. He'll like it there."

"He does like it here," Genevieve says, eyes still closed. How long has she been awake? "You don't have to feel bad for leaving, you know."

"It was selfish of me," Leon says.

"Not all of it," she insists. "Only a fraction. Not the part that matters."

"You think so?"

"You gave Damien a home. A chance to start over."

"New friends," he adds.

"Friends from school." She chuckles. "We're getting too old for him."

"We are."

"You really have changed," she observes. "The old Leon would never have admitted he was getting old."

"Do you like it?" He grins cheekily. "This new and improved version of me?"

"Yes. No. Dunno. Haven't decided." She prods him gently on chest over his heart. "But you're still you. You keep the same secrets."

"Secrets, you say?" Leon inches his head closer, his pillow bumping against hers. "Tell me, G. What do you think I'm hiding?"

Genevieve puts a hand behind his neck and pulls him closer until his head is resting on her pillow. He opens his mouth to ask what she's up to, but her kiss catches his lips and seals them shut. She hums happily when she realizes she's caught him by surprise, and he kisses her back, feeling the corners of her mouth curl into a smug smile.

He cannot believe he'd slept on this for two years.

He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer so the kiss will last. This kiss is not like he'd imagined. This is real. And this is much, much better.

"Am I right, or am I right?" she asks when he finally lets go.

Leon shakes his head, laughing in relief. "That was supposed to be my line." He can't even pretend to whine. "I was supposed to kiss you."

"Please. You would've had me waiting 'till my hair's all gray."

She has a point, but not one he's willing prove just yet. "You're Merida," he decides on a retort. "Your hair's always gonna be red like a bloody bonfire."

Genevieve coils a strand of her hair around her finger and examines it for a moment. She glares back at Leon with no malice, her blue eyes glinting in the soft morning light. "Call me Merida again, and I will get out of London this instance."

"And if I don't?"

She leans in for another kiss. "I'll stay."

A/N:

Their birthday is September 21st, so the vine is their Celtic sign. That was why they chose to plant grape vines on top of Henrik's ashes. It represents something about all of them, and it unites them.

To all of you:

Hi there, everyone,

I have not disappeared off the face of the earth. I still remain on this planet, with all its perks and drawbacks.

The last few months had been chaotic for me, to say the least. Graduation and the subsequent seeking-of-things-to-do-for-a-living was a whole mess, and I'd also come to learn lots of things about myself that I didn't anticipate. It was all very helpful, honestly. Nothing bad. It just used up more energy than I wanted, and left me with no mind space to get this story written.

But Leon and Genevieve had always been on my mind, nagging me to go finish this bloody thing. So after things have finally settled down last week, relocations and starting my new job and all, I decided it was time to put a full stop to this lovely little tale of my OCs so I can start new projects during NaNoWriMo (which is SO SOON, OMG!) and look forward.

Things I have planned for NaNo includes:
- A story of a 15-year-old Sensate Damien and his newfound Cluster, particularly one sad Russian boy with a questionable past
- A tale of how Kiira comes to terms with having two brothers, and how Capheus comes to terms with the badass, intelligent woman his baby sister had become
- AND MOST EXCITINGLY (just because I've been sitting on this story for over a freaking YEAR): THE BEGINNING OF THE SENSE8 HOGWARTS AU. Yes. All the characters you know and love (or hate!), thrust into the world of magic.

I have no idea how much of this I will get through, but I will try to touch on each of the three projects for at least one chapter. I might not post so much during November, but I'll try to meet the 50k goal and do revisions after before I share things with all of you. It's easier to do so because I have the plots outlined. THIS story, meanwhile, had been a bit of a "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it" gamble, and I've found that prior organization works much more efficiently for me as a writer, so no more of this!

If any of you are interested in seeing what the Hogwarts AU is about, I have a few posts on the characters' backstories in that universe on my tumblr blog, chaptersonetoinfinity, under the tag #Sense8 Hogwarts AU, including an overall one in which I explain the timeline and the gist of the very grand, very ambitious plot.

The whole AU will likely take seven stories, one for each year, to get through. I have no idea how long it will be, but it will likely reach Veracity-length by the end of book 7, if not double that. Should I have kept things more concise to spare myself time and anguish? Yes. But will I? Not likely. Go big or go home, I say.

Thank you all so much for reading and living in this Veracity Verse adventure with me. Dream on!

Love,
Sas (Nightjar Patronus)